Chapter 21:

A Performance in the Center Ring

"I feel like a goon in a gunnysack," Trixie told Honey, struggling to look at herself in her friend's small travel mirror. After showering away the afternoon's drudgery, Miss Belden had slipped into her sunny sundress.

"Well, you look lovely," Honey said, checking the time on her watch. "And we should be going, Trixie. Dan told us to meet him at the carport at three. It's about five till."

Miss Belden was ready to change back into her dungarees. Or maybe what she really needed was a pair of short shorts and a tank top? "Give me just a few more minutes," she begged. "Are you sure I look alright? I think I'm missing something. This get-up just doesn't have any zing."

"Zing?" Honey laughed. "You mean like jewelry? I'm afraid I didn't bring any paste rings or pearls this trip, Trixie.

Trixie grimaced and then bit her lip. "No, not that?" she said.

Then, as Miss Belden began slipping into the sandals Moms had packed to match the lemon yellow dress, she realized what she'd forgotten. "I'm not wearing toenail polish, Honey!" she exclaimed. "I can't go out of the cabin with nude toes! Beau's always commenting on Hallie's glossy glitter jobs. Do you have any polish on you?"

Honey smirked as she went for her toiletry bag and pulled out a bottle of pearl pink lacquer. Tossing it to her friend, she laughed, "Heaven knows we can't have you going out of the cabin with nude toes. What on earth would Jim would think?"

Trixie plopped down on the edge of her bed. "Jim?" she hooted, giving the fancy bottle a really good shake. "Jim wouldn't notice if I showed up at the buyers wearing my birthday suit, Honey." Then, as the flustered girl awkwardly began applying the polish to the nails of her piggies, she wistfully added, "You don't think Charlotte got dressed up to go to the boat launch this morning, do you, Honey?"

Miss Wheeler, sliding her cell phone into her purse, smiled knowingly. "I wouldn't worry about Charlotte," she said honestly. "Everyone knows Jim thinks of you as his best girl, Trixie. I think it's time you start believing it."

Honey had been trying to make her insecure friend feel better. But in reality, she'd only made Miss Belden feel worse. "Best girl" implied the handsome boy had "other girls". And Trixie dreamed of being Jim's "only girl". That was the way love was supposed to work. Wasn't it? If not, Miss Belden wouldn't have bothered to put on the dress.

Dan was about to toot the commuter van's horn for a second time when Honey dashed up and hopped into the front seat.

"Trixie will be here in a minute," she told the impatient young man. "She has to wait for her nail polish to dry before she can put on her sandals."

"Nail polish?!" Dan hooted as the pretty girl snapped her seat belt in place. "Trix? Don't tell me Hallie's rubbing off on her. Hallie's been making too many bad decisions lately."

Honey smiled as she lowered the passenger-side vanity mirror to check her hair. "Like choosing Beau over you?" she asked lightly.

Dan chuckled self-consciously and gazed out the side window. "Am I that transparent?" he said.

"No, not really," Miss Wheeler returned. "But I imagine it hasn't been easy for you, Dan - especially after you came all this way to lend Hallie's family a hand."

Dan shrugged, avoiding making eye contact with the young lady. "It hasn't been that bad," he admitted. "I half expected Hal would dump me anyway, Hon. I've always been a flop with chicks."

As Honey pushed up the hinged mirror, it let out a slap. "Oh, you are not," she argued. "I've seen the way girls flock around you at school."

Mr. Mangan huffed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, that's what a bad boy reputation will get you," he said. "Once those birds get to know the real me? It's bye-bye, Danny-boy."

"Well, I happen to know two girls who really like the real you," Miss Wheeler insisted.

"Oh, yeah? And who might they be?" the disbelieving boy grunted.

"Me, for one," Honey began truthfully. "And then there's Trixie, Dan. She's always telling me how terrific you are."

Mr. Mangan's eyebrows shot skyward but then just as quickly plummeted. "Yeah, right," he said. "A lot of good that does me. The last time I looked, the two of you were already taken. Maybe what I need is a bottle of love potion?" he added sarcastically.

Honey laughed sadly, thinking she might benefit from a bottle too. "Don't be so hard on yourself," she told the gloomy boy. "Trust me, no one is immune to heartbreak, Dan. You just haven't met the right girl yet. Besides, we're all too young to consider ourselves spoken for. Miss Trask says most people have to kiss a lot of frogs before they find their true prince or princess."

Then, as Trixie came up under the carport, feeling more like a frog than she did a princess, Mr. Mangan let out a whistle. "I feel underdressed," he called out as the blushing young lady slid open the rear door to crawl in. "What's the occasion, Cinderella?"

"I forgot to toss my dirties in with the rest of the laundry," Miss Belden fibbed. "This was the only thing I had left that was clean." Trixie had devised the excuse while she'd been in the shower.

Having helped wash the clothes that morning, Dan knew his friend wasn't being honest. But he let it slide, figuring the young lady's get-up had something to do with his red-headed buddy. It always came down to Frayne with Trixie.

In Saint Estelle, Dan asked Trixie and Honey for directions to the Dinky Pinky. Aunt Liz had requested the young people to run by the grocery store to pick up some bait meat. The store's butcher had reserved twenty-five pounds of beef lung for the LeBlancs and a few family packs of chicken quarters past their expiration date.

While there, the girls planned to buy a package of crew socks for Hallie to replace the ones they'd used to make their voodoo dolls. Honey had seen them in the toiletry aisle when they'd been searching for Mart's clam juice. And the two seamstresses agreed to go halfsies on the purchase.

When the girls returned to camp, Miss Wheeler insisted they present the socks to Hallie and apologize for using hers without asking. Trixie would have preferred she and Honey slip the cotton anklets into her cousin's bag without Miss Flop-Flop's knowing. She highly doubted her cousin would realize the socks weren't hers. The ones Trixie had taken looked like they'd never been worn.

But alas, Honey was right. It was wrong to steal, even from family. And an apology was in order. So, entering the frigid store, the teenagers split up. As Dan headed for the meat department, Honey and Trixie sought out the sundries.

A short time later, Mr. Mangan caught up with the young ladies as they were heading for the check-out with their three-pack of footwear.

"The meat manager said to pull the van around back, and he'd load up our cooler," Dan said as the three got in line behind a young woman with a toddler. "He's already charged the LeBlancs."

As the mop-topped tyke in front of the teens let out a piercing wail, Charlotte, who was behind the register winced. Lady-Gossip looked about as ragged out as Hallie had at breakfast. And Trixie smiled inwardly, wondering if Charlotte had made it to the boat launch.

"If Mrs. Verona's hadn't caved and bought the kid a peanut butter cup, I would have," Charlotte groaned as the Sleepyside young people moved up in line. "Find everything you need?" she went on to ask as Honey put the socks on the conveyor belt. "You two missed a great party last night. Trixie and Honey, right?"

Trixie giggled. "None other," she said. "Hallie and Beau told us they had a swell time, Charlotte. Sorry, we couldn't make it."

That's when the dragging beautician got an eye-full of Dan, who'd been lagging behind the New York girls. Instantly perking up, she asked the boy, "And who might you be, Cutie?"

Mr. Mangan laughed and stepped forward to introduce himself. "I'm Dan," he said simply as the young lady scanned the girls' item. "Nice to meet you, Charlotte."

After droning, "That will be eight-twenty-five," the flirty cashier twirled her hair and admitted the pleasure was hers. "I'm going to have to talk with Beau," she told a grinning Mr. Mangan. "He didn't mention there being a 'Dan' in your group."

Trixie snorted and went for the coin purse in her pocketbook. "Does the name 'City-Slicker' ring any bells?" she asked Charlotte, handing her four crumpled bills. "Beau gave us all nicknames," she added as Honey forked over the rest of the tab.

Charlotte laughed and stuffed the pack of socks into a sack. "Come to think of it, Beau did say something about you having a boyfriend named Slick, Trixie."

As Dan cocked his head and looked at his curly-haired friend questioningly, Miss Belden reddened. "I think you misunderstood, Beau," she told Charlotte. "I mean, Dan is a boy. And he and I are friends. But that doesn't make him my 'boyfriend', Charlotte. Isn't that right, Dan," Trixie added as the future beautician smirked.

Mr. Mangan chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "That's a fact," he returned.

Charlotte smiled and handed Honey the girl's bag. Then, after scribbling something on the back of the receipt, she turned the slip over to Dan. "In that case, why don't you give me a call sometime?" she said. "I'd love to show you around town before you leave, Cute Stuff." The young lady had given Dan her phone number.

"I bet she would," Trixie muttered to Honey as Dan returned that he "just might". Only Miss Wheeler hushed her friend.

"I think it's nice, Trixie," Honey whispered. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous."

Miss Belden grimaced and then took Dan's arm. "Better be going, Slick. The butcher is waiting," she said. "Tell the lady good-bye. Have a great afternoon, Charlotte."

But Lady-Gossip told the young people to hold up a minute and then lured them back in with a crook of her finger. "Before you go, how's Papa LeBlanc doing?" she asked, lowering her voice so the cashier in the lane over wouldn't hear. "He hasn't been acting funny lately, has he? Paul Abellard, who works in produce, was telling me this morning that his older brother told him that Mr. LeBlanc said the Rougarou that attacked him was Mrs. Foret. Paul's brother is friends with one of the first responders who were out at Anglers' Landing the other day. The way Paul tells it, no one knows if Papa drew Sure-Shot's blood, but it's awfully coincidental that Shelly got over her sickness right about the same time Papa LeBlanc fell out of his boat."

The pair of Sleepyside detectives gasped. Could Charlotte's hearsay link together two of the girls' stray puzzle pieces? But if so, where did they fit into the big picture? The New York young ladies certainly couldn't see a Rougarou stealing people's alligators. That idea was laughable. Wasn't it?

"What do you mean acting funny?' Trixie asked carefully.

"You know," the pretty clerk replied, leaning in. "Has Mr. LeBlanc been weak and coughing during the day but sneaking out at night?"

Dan chuckled and tucked Lady-Gossip's phone number into his pocket. "Papa's acting fine, Charlotte," he said. "In fact, he's healed up enough to go hunting tomorrow."

The girl with the purple-streaked hair let out a sigh of relief. "Am I ever glad to hear that," she said. "I'll have to tell Paul." But as a gentleman with a gallon of milk came up behind the chatting teens, Charlotte noted she'd better get back to work. "Don't forget to call me!" she reminded Dan as teens started for the exit.

While the young people had been in the store, a brief rain shower had blown through, and as they made their way to the commuter van, steam rose from the hot pavement of the parking lot. Trixie could already feel her hair kinking up from the moisture. And she figured her light cotton dress would be a wrinkled mess by the time the young people reached Uncle T.'s.

Despite Honey's claims to the contrary, Miss Belden knew she looked like a circus clown. She would have been more attractive if she'd worn her jeans and ball cap. But that was water under the bridge. And Trixie held onto the hope that maybe Beau was as afraid of clowns as he was of flying. She was still pretty irked that the Cajun young man had told Charlotte that Dan was her boyfriend.

"You don't really plan to take Charlotte up on her offer to show you around town, do you, Dan?" Trixie asked Mr. Mangan, who'd been whistling merrily on his way to the vehicle.

Dan tossed the chain with the van keys in the air and then caught it with a snag. "I doubt it," he admitted truthfully. "She seems nice enough, but I have a hunch there won't be time. Besides, I think that purple dye has gone to Charlotte's head. I can't believe she was worried that Mr. LeBlanc might be a Rougarou. That idea's kooky."

A week ago, Trixie would have agreed. But after the last few days? The notion didn't seem quite so farfetched. "You have to admit, it is rather odd that we never see Papa after dark," she said.

"And Mrs. Foret did recover from her illness awfully quickly," Honey chimed in.

As Mr. Mangan unlocked the vehicle doors, he groaned, "Not the two of you, too? Honestly, girls, I thought you had more sense? Do you really think Aunt Renee would be staying with Papa if he turned into a wolf-man at night? Let alone plan on taking him back to Idaho with the storm coming? Come on. Get real."

Crawling into the van, Trixie and Honey decided that Dan was right. The young ladies had let themselves get carried away. Gossip could be dangerous if not taken with a grain of salt. Zombies weren't the only ones who should have their lips sewn shut.

After swinging around the Dinky Pinky to pick up the bait meat, Trixie, Dan, and Honey headed for the Gas and Get Some. Terrance's buying establishment was located behind the service station. And as Dan pulled the van around the pumps via the access road, Trixie noticed Sure-Shot Shelly's pickup pulled up under a massive metal carport attached to a nondescript building with oversized garage door bays. A large sign outside the building read, "T.'s Seafood and Tannery", and Miss Belden knew the teens had reached their destination.

The LeBlanc crew had yet to arrive. But Uncle Harold and Mr. Robert met the young people in the parking lot with smiles on their weary faces. The men had had a good day's hunt.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think the beasts were trying to fill up their bellies before Diana hits," Uncle Harold told the teenagers as they climbed out of the van.

"Gleeps, Mr. Belden, that's swell news," Dan said as the tall man and his captain proceeded to walk the young people over to the buying area. "I sure hope the LeBlancs had your kind of luck."

Trixie echoed her male friend's sentiment. Then she asked the men if they'd come across any cut lines that morning.

"Just one," Mr. Robert returned with an air of relief. "Ms. Camille was telling us others weren't so lucky."

As a man in cut-off bib-overhauls and no shirt waved and yelled, "Hey, Bob, come here a minute!" Mr. Robert and Uncle Harold excused themselves, leaving the teens to take in their surroundings.

And what a sight it was to see! The buying area was like a three-ring circus. People were running every which way.

Ms. LeBlanc was currently on the forklift, shuttling one of Sure-Shot Shelly and her oldest son's alligators to the far refrigerator bay. The ugly behemoth was over ten feet long, and Miss Wheeler crossed her fingers, hoping the alligator wasn't Houdini.

While this was happening, a gentleman who looked amazingly like Uncle Sam was busy measuring the rest of the Forets' gators with a plastic tape. The twelve good-sized alligators were lined up on the concrete floor of the carport. And as he called out the dims of each one, his assistant would record them on a clipboard.

Meanwhile, a woolly bear of a fellow, whom Dan had identified as Lucien, was hovering over the man's shoulder, occasionally arguing with the measurements. Ms. Foret, in the meantime, had stepped away from the crowd to take a smoke. But Sure-Shot Shelly was eyeing the goings on carefully.

Around the Forets, there were three other crews tossing alligators from the back of their boats onto the pad. They were being helped by a different group of employees. The show was quite the spectacle. And Trixie and Honey were glad they hadn't missed it.

"Who's that?" Miss Wheeler asked Dan, indicating the man resembling Uncle Sam. It was apparent that the gentleman was a member of the LeBlanc family.

"That's Mr. T.," Dan said, causing Trixie's eyebrows to lift.

"But he's so young?" Miss Belden gasped. "I was expecting someone more Papa's age."

Mr. Mangan laughed and moved the girls out of the way of the forklift as Camille came back for another of the Foret's alligators. "Terrance is Papa's baby brother," he said. "There's a big age gap between them, Trix."

Trixie had been wondering why Ms. Camille had married Papa's brother. The young lady had assumed Uncle Sam's ex was a gold-digger. But after getting a good look at the handsome man crouching in front of the Foret's haul, Miss Belden had to readjust her thinking. Mr. T., though still older than his alluring bride, appeared to be quite a catch.

About then, Jim and Uncle Sam pulled up under the metal awning. Trixie could already tell the fisherman had had a booming day. Their trailer tires were squat from the reptiles' weight, and the tarp covering the gators rose from the boat like a brown mountain.

"Well, look at you!" Jim laughed as Trixie rushed to greet him. "What happened, Trix? Run out of clean clothes?"

The girl in the yellow sundress giggled. "Bingo," she said. "How was your day?"

"Fantastic!" Mr. Frayne announced, swinging out of the truck. "Papa's going to be two-stepping tonight!"

"Oh, that's great to hear!" Honey chimed as she and Dan hurried over. "Did you and Uncle Sam catch Houdini?"

"Afraid not," Uncle Sam chuckled as he joined the teenagers. "But that bad boy gave us one good fight. He nearly capsized our boat before slipping our line." The good-humored man with the cleft in his chin then pushed his idling red-headed deckhand to the rear of the trailer. Jim's work day wasn't through.

As Trixie and Honey watched on, Dan helped the hunters line up twenty-eight alligators on the pad, ranging from seven to ten feet long! As the men were finishing, Ms. Camille came over to assist her ex and Jim. And almost immediately, Trixie and Honey sensed tension between the formerly married couple. The pair was short with each other and overly business-like.

Mart and Maxine came into the buyer's next. And Trixie could hardly wait to see how her brother had fared. So, grabbing Honey's hand, she called out to Jim, "See you later, alligator!"

And the handsome boy laughed and gave his best girl a wink. "After while, crocodile!" he said. "I like the polish, Sunshine."

Trixie was redder than a cardinal but as happy as a lark as she hurried her best friend over to Maxine's boat. There, in back, the slight Max and her more beefy deckhand were rolling a massive monster over the side rail.

"Watch out below!" Mart bellowed, causing the Sleepyside girls to briefly scatter.

"Gleeps, Mart!" his sister gasped as the gargantuan gator hit the pavement with a thud. "Is that Houdini?" The alligator was by far the biggest Trixie had ever seen. It was almost twice as long as Uncle Harold was tall, and thicker than brick. The beast was a dinosaur!

"Hardly," the huffing young man returned as he and this captain wrestled to get another brute over the side of the boat. "That particular mississippiensis is a munchkin compared to the great escape artist. In fact, I do believe I shall name it Munchkin."

"Oh, my!" Honey replied, examining the massive gator. "If Houdini is larger than this, he wouldn't fit in the boat."

Maxine chuckled as she and her helper paused to take a breather. "If there's a will, there's a way," she told Miss Wheeler. "Mart might have to sit on him, but we'd get that critter home."

Trixie had joined Honey, who was still marveling at the size of the Goliath's head.

"I sure wouldn't want to get my arm caught between his jaws," Miss Belden said, giving the gator a nudge with her foot.

Honey was shuddering when a team of Mr. T.'s employees came to assist the new arrivals. "Mart's incredibly brave to have wrestled in a monster like this," the pretty girl told her friend. "Not to mention strong. The other alligators he and Max caught are nearly as big."

Miss Belden hated to admit it, but her friend was right. Trixie's brother and his captain hadn't caught as many alligators as Jim and Uncle Sam, but those they'd hauled in all were between nine and eleven foot six inches long! It was a grand accomplishment.

Why, even Joey agreed. He was the young man measuring Max and Mart's alligators. Mart said Ms. Camille refused to help Max. But Joey was a good friend of Maxine's. And the impressed young man noted that Munchkin was the biggest gator caught so far that season.

As Joey's teammate went to get the industrial skid steer, Max's friend tied heavy straps around the giant beast's neck and front legs. No light-duty forklift would be able to handle that heavy alligator! Yes, Papa was going to be so proud!

But as Joey's partner returned on the heavyweight loader and lifted Munchkin by the straps, Trixie upped her brother's accomplishment from grand to monumental. Seeing the nightmarish beast dangling in the air only made it seem larger. But as the alligator's massive jaws fell open, Miss Belden couldn't help but laugh. The poor fellow's gums and tongue had been stained bright pink from the marinated bait he'd taken.

"I told you I'd never get that stuff of Mart's out of my dress if I spilled it on me," the humored girl told Honey.

And that's when Trixie was struck by a bolt of lightning. Hurrying over to where Mart had gone to boast to Jim and Dan about Munchkin, Miss Belden pulled the bragging boy off to one side. She then asked her brother if he and Max had had any of their lines cut.

Mart, realizing for the first time that his detective sister was femalely attired, admitted there'd been three. "Let me guess," the smart-Alec boy added. "You've tracked that lousy gator grabber to the circus and have decided to go undercover as a clown to nab him, right, Bozo?"

"Ha, ha, very funny," Trixie replied dryly. "But it may interest you to know that your magic marinade may be the key to solving that mystery, dear brother."

"How so?" Mart returned sobering.

Trixie decided to leave her irritating brother hanging as payback for teasing her. Instead of elaborating, she hurried back to where she'd left Honey and, after borrowing a pen from her friend, began jotting the last four digits from the tags in Mart and Max's gators' tails on her palm. Detective Belden couldn't get the number from Munchkin, as he'd already been lugged to the cooler. But the tag numbers ran in sequence, and Trixie was sure she'd be able to figure it out if necessary.

"What are you doing?" Honey curiously asked, peering over her preoccupied friend's shoulder.

Trixie was about to explain when Beau's souped-up truck pulled alongside the carport. Letting out a groan, Miss Belden told her friend it would have to wait. "I'm afraid this clown has a performance in the center ring," she said. "Want to catch the show?"

Honey laughed. "I wouldn't miss it," she said.

As the young ladies scurried over to greet the newcomers, Mr. Benoit hopped out of the cab of his truck, and Miss Belden called out, "Miss me, Beau?!"

Pushing up his sunglasses, the young Cajun man did a double take, and Honey nearly broke down in giggles. "I thought there for a minute something had happened to Sugar-Pop's voice," the young man confessed with a laugh as the girls came up. "Check out you," he added with a whistle as Cap came around the other side of the vehicle.

"Like?" Trixie replied, spinning so her skirt flared. Miss Belden had seen Di do the same move at a party or two.

"What's not to like?" Beau chuckled. "But you'll have to excuse me, Goldilocks," he went on as he and his deck hand pushed past the girls. "Pony-Boy and I have to get these gators unloaded and into the cooler before their skin slips off. We had a decent day, and Mr. LeBlanc would be furious if we were to blow it. I'm not exactly a jewel in his crown, you know."

So Trixie had heard from Daddy. But she smiled anyway, and as the young men climbed into the boat, she objected, "I'd say you're the shining ruby right in the middle of Papa's crown, Beau. I can't believe you filled all of these tags single-handedly. Why those alligators look like some of the meanest I've ever seen."

Miss Belden, who'd stepped up on the trailer's bumper to peek inside the boat, was laying it on thick. The boys had indeed had a good day. But their alligators paled to Jim and Mart's in number and size.

"Hey, what about me?" Cap scoffed as he tossed a seven-footer onto the pad. "I helped fill those tags, Trix. In fact, I did most of the work. All my captain had to do was drive the boat and pop off a few shots."

Beau gave his pal a shove. "Oh, yeah? "he said. "You wouldn't have gotten these babies into the boat without me, Pony-Boy."

"Boys, please?" Honey interrupted, never liking it when people argued. "I thought you needed to get these alligators unloaded? Come on, Trixie," she added. "We better let Cap and Beau finish with their work. We don't want to get Beau fired."

Trixie gulped. Honey was right. Miss Belden had forgotten that filling Papa's tags was Mr. Benoit's job.

So, hopping down from the trailer, Trixie prepared to wrap up her little charade. "You will hold a seat for little ol' me at supper tonight, won't you, Beau?" she asked the Cajun boy in parting. "I'll be looking forward to hearing all about your day. Besides, I do believe it's your turn to walk me back to the cabin tonight?"

Mr. Benoit tossed his buddy a look of total disbelief, and Cap replied by shrugging and twirling his finger at his temple. All the while, Trixie had been batting her sandy eyelashes at the Cajun boy.

"Um…yeah, sure, whatever, Goldilocks," Beau returned, not knowing quite what to say.

Trixie wanted to giggle. Only instead, the shameless girl blew Mr. Benoit a kiss. "Until then!" she called as Honey dragged her away.

Once the young ladies were out of Beau and Cap's earshot, the two girls' sides split open.

"Oh, Trixie, that was simply terrible of you!" Honey scolded, trying to contain her laughter.

"Oh, Honey, I know," Miss Belden replied, her eyes blinded by tears. "But once I got rolling, I just couldn't stop. I mean, it was like I was possessed by somebody else."

"You definitely weren't yourself," her best friend agreed. "But I believe you successfully shut Beau down, Trixie. I'll be surprised if he saves you that seat."

Trixie sobered, hoping Honey was right. She was tired of playing games. The girls had some detective work to do. And Miss Belden was ready to get down to business.

So, starting for the far end of the lot, Miss Belden explained that she wanted to check out the alligators in the refrigerator bay. "I want to get a good look at those monster's mouths," she told her friend. "If someone's cashed in the alligators stolen off Max and Mart's lines? Those gators are going to have screaming pink gums."

"But we won't be able to tell who brought them in," Honey objected, rushing to keep up with rushing her partner.

"Sure we will," Trixie returned. "The buyer records all that information, Honey. If we find an alligator with a stained mouth whose tag number doesn't match one of Max and Mart's, we'll write down the number and see if Joey can tell us who caught the beast."

"Oh, Trixie, that's so smart of you!" Miss Wheeler returned excitedly. "Do you think Mr. T. and his wife will let us investigate their cooler?"

Nearing their destination, Trixie scoped out the area, devising a plan of attack. "I hadn't planned to ask them," she admitted sheepishly. "The LeBlancs leave the door open when shuttling alligators back and forth. If they wanted to keep people out of the bay, they'd shut it, Honey. Besides, if we're caught, we'll just explain that we wanted to see the gators. It isn't a lie. We won't be hurting anything."

Honey paused in mid-step. "I don't know, Trixie," she said hesitantly.

"Oh, come on," Miss Belden said, dragging her friend forward. "We'll just wait over there on that stack of sandbags until Camille or one of her employees drops off their next load. Then, slip inside the building once they're gone. It'll be a snap, Honey."

"But what if the boys see us?" Miss Wheeler objected. "They're bound to want to know what we're up to." Honey was again stalling, and her exasperated friend gave her a shove.

"If you'd quit acting like a stick in the mud, we wouldn't have that worry," Trixie insisted. "So, like Papa would say, get your tochus moving, Honey!"

Ten minutes later, Miss Wheeler was rubbing her bare arms, trying to keep warm. The refrigerated bay's temperature was set just above freezing. And Honey didn't like the cold. Trixie, on the other hand, welcomed the chill. The all-white room, with its high ceiling and fluorescent lighting, was a haven compared to the grey, windy sauna outside.

On the concrete floor, the harvested alligators lay in piles under canvas tarps, awaiting their turn in the processing center. Lined up along the far wall were two gurney-like transport tables and a wheeled contraption that looked almost like an airline luggage rack to Trixie. Just inside the door sat a folding table currently used as a desk. On it were an old computer and a phone. Other than that, the room was pretty much empty, except for some block and tackle hanging from the ceiling.

"This place gives me the willies," Honey admitted as the girls went from tarp to tarp, inspecting the alligators underneath. "I feel like I'm in a morgue or a torture chamber."

"Oh, Honey, will you stop painting such lovely pictures," her partner griped, trying to ignore her own sense of ill-ease. "I promise we'll get out of here as soon as we're done. So help me pull back this last tarp. I've got a good feeling about this bunch." So far, the girls hadn't found any suspicious cadavers. But they had located all of Mart and Maxine's gators.

Only the young ladies' luck was about to change. As Honey complied and Trixie was pushing away the skin around the mouth of a big bull, Miss Wheeler, who'd refused to touch the alligators, noticed a puddle of pink water on the floor near the snout of a small six-foot female.

"Trixie, check this one out!" Honey cried excitedly, bringing a hush from her friend.

As Detective Belden rolled a larger beast from atop the reptile in question, she noticed the smaller creature's neon tongue caught between its ghoulish teeth.

After letting out a whoop of victory, Trixie asked, "You got that pen ready, Honey? I'm going to call out the numbers on the tag. I want you to write them down."

Only that's when Lt. Hebert strolled in. Trixie and Honey figured Ms. Camille had spotted them and had sent her brother to escort the young ladies from the premises. But as the dapper officer went for the phone and began to dial, Miss Belden instructed her friend to lie down next to the alligators, and she'd pull the tarpaulin over them. Hopefully, Lt. Herbert wouldn't notice the girls.

Honey did as instructed, but as Trixie slipped under the canvas cover beside her friend, Miss Belden realized Honey shaking. The curly-haired girl wasn't sure if Honey was cold, scared, or both. But she hoped the fragile girl wouldn't pass out on her.

But as the game warden began to speak, and the two girls intently listened in, Miss Wheeler's tremors lessened.

"I'm sorry I called you at work, but I had to hear your voice," they heard the gentleman say. "Yeah, I'm there now. And you can breathe easy. She won't tell your husband about our affair. I've kept up my end of the bargain, Joe."

"Joe?" Trixie's mind screamed. "Joe, who?" And who was Lt. Hebert referring to? Ms. Camille?

"I don't know how she found out," the officer went on after a pause. "She just knew, Joe. You know she's got the gift of knowing."

Trixie heard Honey gasping beside her. The only person the girls knew with the "gift of knowing" was Mama Marie!

"Yeah, well, I did it for you as much as I did for her," Miss Belden heard Lt. Hebert continue. "And you can stop worrying about my losing my job. The law of the swamp isn't black and white, Joe. There are things in these parts that upstanding folks don't need to know about. Theriot and I have each other's backs. "

When Lt. Herbert mentioned the sheriff's name, Honey gave Trixie a nudge in the side, and Miss Belden replied by elbowing her friend in the ribs. It looked increasingly like Sure-Shot Shelly's brother might be up to no good. And that in itself wasn't good.

But that was the last Lieutenant Hebert would speak of the sheriff. Trixie had heard the man's pager go off, and he cut his call short. "Got to go," he told the person on the other end of the line. "See you tonight? I'll be looking forward to it. Love you too, Josette."

Again, Trixie feared that Honey might faint –only this time from shock. Who would have thought the game warden was having an affair with Beau's mother!

Cautiously peeking out from her hiding place, Miss Belden watched until Lieutenant Hebert left, then quickly threw off the tarp. Honey was anxious to discuss what the pair had overheard. But Trixie warned her friend they didn't have time; it would have to wait until later. The girls had to get that stolen alligator's tag number and skedaddle. Ms. Camille and the forklift were long overdue.

Only little did Miss Belden know; it was already too late. As Trixie began calling out numbers to Honey, they heard the motor of a lifter behind them. Twisting their heads, the two girls saw Ms. LeBlanc's vehicle coming through the door.

"Run, Honey, run!" Trixie shrieked as the forklift and its five-hundred-pound gator edged ever closer. The horrified girl thought Ms. Camille planned to drop the beast atop them!

But before the young ladies could flee with their lives, the woman with the angry animal eyes hit a button on the lift's dash, closing the door of the bay. Trixie and Honey were trapped!

Author's Note: Just three more chapters to go! Thanks for reading!